


Darling

by doomcanary



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Animals, Author is a horse geek, Gen, Horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-30
Updated: 2014-03-30
Packaged: 2018-01-17 15:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1392292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doomcanary/pseuds/doomcanary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because the horses are just as handsome as the boys, and really, they ought to get a bit part now and again.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>“Now now – this is my good coat,” Aramis admonishes the mare as she bites at his clothes.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Darling

**Author's Note:**

> There's an old saying about white socks on horses which goes "One, buy him; two, try him; three, suspect him, four, reject him." Athos is referring to this when he talks about the chestnut mare.

“What's up with Peppercorn?” asks Porthos, nodding at the chestnut Athos is leading by its reins in place of his usual elegant black.

“He's lame,” says Athos.

“Again?”

“Needs his shoes taking off and putting back on straight,” says d'Artagnan, a cloud of dust billowing up from his brush as he roughly cleans it with a curry comb. “That farrier ought to try wearing his own work for a while.”

“He's never done any harm to Darling,” says Aramis, stroking the velvety muzzle of his favourite bay mare. The horse, damn her, seems as struck by Aramis's charms as any Parisian lady and nuzzles at him, looking for treats in his pockets.

“Darling's never kicked him in the balls,” observes Porthos.

“Dogs get like their owners, maybe horses do too,” says the Gascon dryly.

“Now now – this is my good coat,” Aramis admonishes the mare as she bites at his clothes.

Athos eyes the chestnut mare beside him; she was a cow in the stall, lifting her forefeet to kick at him and biting his arse when he went to pick her hind ones. Four white socks too; he likes that in a horse. He thinks he might name her Forget-me-not.

Porthos has as usual left Jacques to do the heavy lifting of saddling up his Bourbon; Athos had been surprised at him, until he realised how much pride Jacques took in the work. The echoing clop of Bourbon's immense hooves sounds and Jacques leads him out of the stable, gleaming in the morning sun. D'Artagnan puts away the clean brush and ducks back inside to retrieve doublet, hat, cape and horse. He likes North; a comfortable, level-headed beast, slow off the mark but can go two full days without tiring. He can't imagine what Athos sees in Peppercorn; having borrowed the beast once when North was coughing his lungs up and spraying poor Jacques with white ooze at every snort, he'd found it a foul-tempered animal and a thoroughly uncomfortable ride.

Athos, he supposes, is perverse enough to like a horse like that. They swing up into their saddles, and set out for the palace.

 

Of course, that would be the day that Darling chooses to kick not the farrier, but His Eminence Cardinal Richelieu in the balls. Honestly d'Artagnan is surprised the man hadn't the sense to stay wide of the back end of a mare – but then he supposes going from nobility to the cloth doesn't prime a man to be good with life's basic concerns.

Aramis covers his urge to laugh with doe-eyed concern; he leaps off Darling's back and goes to support the Cardinal's elbow, murmuring heartfelt apologies. The Cardinal is bent forward stiffly, and d'Artagnan thinks this is the first time he's ever seen colour in the man's cheeks at all. Aramis looks mortified when he returns to claim Darling's reins, and the four of them are dismissed back to the garrison, to be replaced by men with more stolid mounts.

“Look on the bright side, at least a cardinal has no great use for them,” mutters Athos on their way out. “Particularly since that whole business with Adele.”

“I'd've honestly believed the whole act if I hadn't seen,” Porthos adds, sotto voce as Aramis rides ahead.

“Seen what?” says d'Artagnan.

“Aramis teaching her to kick out on command.”

D'Artagnan looks shocked. Athos's face is expressionlessly serene. Aramis takes a particularly large and shiny apple from his pocket when he dismounts.

 


End file.
